Judgement: Modern Human Version - Part II
by JJZ-109
Summary: A death of a mother. A duel. A deployment. A torturing. A great loss. Taka has descended to the darkness Scar, following many terrible events and a stint in Vietnam. The birth of a familiar prince nears, and the power of the Prideland Socialist Party continues to grow. Follow Scar on his journey through the TLK (MHV) timeline, as Judgement awaits. Part II of the Haradion adaption.
1. The Tales

**Righto people, I'm back in business. I'm picking right back up where that cliffhanger at the end of Part I left off. For those of you that don't know, or haven't figured...THIS IS A HUMAN VERSION, and prequel (sort of) to my Modern Human trilogy. This is also a human adaption of Haradion's TLK 'Judgement' which also ties in here. Yep, this is a direction continuation. No 'Chapter 1'...we'll begin with 28. Where we left off. And quite a few secrets of the MHV universe are revealed here...Some questions a few of you may have been thinking. WARNING: This chapter reveals a secret kept since MHV1...make sure there's nothing in your mouth when you figure it out...or you'll spit it everywhere.**

**Cheers: JJZ-109**

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**CHAPTER 28. THE TALES**

Ammit turned to Scar in surprise, grinning.

"Wow! I didn't see that coming." He said, relishing the discomfort.

"Ha! The Mrs. and the Ex. Welcome to every man's worst nightmare..." Ammit chortled to himself. Scar was yet again starting to lose his patience.

"So what happened next Scar?" Kivuli asked, and Scar looked at him.

"What do you mean?" Scar asked dryly, no mood for games and guesswork.

"I take it you helped her out, right?" Scar rolled his eyes.

"Yes. What else do I do?"

"Chase her to Australia, shoot her and dump her body into the ocean?" Ammit wisecracked, and was met with glares from both of his companions. "...Okay. Why, then? She betrayed you twice when you needed her, and because of her your government plan didn't take effect." He asked, this time a bit more seriously.

"Is it any of your business?" Scar growled.

"Yep." Ammit and Kivuli said in unison. Scar sighed.

"I don't know. I couldn't just leave her could I? I knew her, a drunkard was beating her and I had the power to stop it. That's why."

"Just curious." Kivuli said to nobody in particular, but he seemed to be smiling.

"Anyway, let's keep on going. Right where we left off, aye mate?" He waved two fingers, and the freeze-frame of the vision in the background slowly started to animate itself again, and grew large once again.

_East Side Motel_

_December, 1993_

Scar was lost for words as Sarafina looked up at him feebly. He was about to correct for addressing him by his old name, but thought against it. Instead of greeting her, his attention was drawn to her injuries and the alcohol-infused rambling in the background. The situation didn't look good.

"What's going on here?" Scar asked after a moment of confusion.

"Um...nothing. Don't worry." Sarafina said quickly. Scar looked towards the motel room again and then back at Sarafina, shaking his head.

"Don't bullshit me...Who's that in there?" Scar interrogated her.

"It's my husband." Sarafina admitted, bowing her head. Scar raised an eyebrow at her. Of course he didn't expect her to still have feelings for him after 20 years and all that had happened between them, but he would have thought she would have chosen a better man than what it seemed.

Scar nodded.

"Okay, I'm sorting this out." Scar said and reached for the doorknob. Sarafina desperately grabbed his arm.

"No...Please don't...please. He'll get angry." Sarafina protested, with swollen eyes and a tear stained face. Scar shook her off and stared into her eyes.

"A man that hits a woman...is barely a man at all." Scar snarled and twisted the doorknob.

As the words left his mouth, images flooded through his mind, and his stomach churned violently with regret. He shuddered as he remembered his treating of Bane's wife in the village, the burning of huts, and that rage fueled pull of the trigger. He was hardly a man at all. What he had done..._NO! _Scar snapped out of the trance and shook off the guilt. Those women really weren't women...they were Viet Cong. The trembling and stress-induced nausea started to die down as Scar mentally justified himself.

Sarafina couldn't reply, and watched in horror as turned away.

He gripped the doorknob, and violently shoved the creaky door open. As the dimly lit room revealed itself, Scar wondered how a woman like Sarafina could end up there. The motel room was trashed. Tables and chairs were knocked over, broken glass scattered the floor and there was an overwhelming stench of alcohol. The wallpaper lining the walls was torn in several places, and overridden by stains. It looked like a scene out of a horror movie. On edge, Scar patted the area of his jacket where the Desert Eagle was stored.

He flinched as he accidentally stood on broken glass, and made a loud cracking sound.

"Hello?" Scar called out, anger noticeably audible in his voice.

The yell triggered a cry, that of a baby. He had obviously woken it. Scar looked back over his shoulder, and found that the source of the noise was right behind him. There was a faded brown sofa, with pieces of cloth and stuffing ripped and stained, as well as junk splayed all over it. Scar ruffled through some newspapers messily thrown in a pile, and eventually uncovered the child.

It was not very old at all. It's eyes were squeezed shut as it wailed. Scar instinctively checked for any injuries the baby may have, but he found none. It looked reasonably healthy, despite the environment it was in. Scar wanted to pick it up and try to gently hush it, but as his hands neared it he saw that there was a pick and blue bracelet tied around the baby's wrist. It looked exactly like the one he had made for Kira. The one he had just thrown into West Australian waters the other day. A tear stung his eye as he thought about it.

Since he had killed Bane and cast out Kira's bracelet, the memory had felt like it had been put to rest. He had had a peace of mind he hadn't really felt since before his mother was killed thirty years ago, but this seemed to yank the memory back. Is this what Kira would have looked like? Is this what it would have been like, to have a son?

Scar gently lifted the baby's wrist, and looked over the bracelet. In childish block letters was written: _MHEETU._

"Mheetu..." Scar thought aloud, and was about to reach to scratch his chin, but as he did so, a loud commanding voice broke out that made the hand change direction to pat his hidden weapon instinctively.

"What the hell are you doing in here?" Scar wheeled around, to see a man slowly walking into the room.

He was reasonably large, with unkempt hair and stubble across his lower face. He wore an unbuttoned red flannel shirt, revealing a stained white singlet underneath. He groggily stepped forward to Scar, staring him down. In his right hand was a whiskey bottle, which he held by the neck.

"Are ya gonna answer asshole?" The man challenged, before taking another sip of his whiskey. Scar's blank expression then formed a frown.

"I'd watch how you talk sir, and I think me being in here is justified. There's a beaten mother outside, and this baby 'Mheetu' over here is buried in newspapers..." Scar started, aggressively but still civilized. He was sharply interrupted when the man crashed his bottle down onto a table, shattering it and forming a dangerous looking weapon.

"Watch how I talk? Is that a _challenge?_" The man snarled in a croaky voice. Scar remained calm.

"Temper, temper...Don't get ahead of yourself- " Scar started, with his hand slowly inching closer and closer to the pistol in his jacket.

"First of all, It's _Matthew._ I don't know what Sarafina...Sara...She sent you here didn't she, the stupid bitch..." The man's voice descended into a cruel growl the further he got into his drunken sentence.

He seemed to forget Scar and make for the door, with a scowl etched onto his face, obviously to confront Sarafina again. _Oh no you don't. _Scar grabbed the man by the collar of his flannel shirt, and violently threw him back. The man was too drunk to keep his footing, and so tumbled back, knocking over a chair on his way down.

"A man that hits a woman...is barely a man at all. Come on tough guy… hit a _man. _See what happens." Scar snarled through clenched teeth, cracking his knuckles.

The man dizzily got to his feet with the help of the table he had smashed the bottle on, and rounded on Scar. He held his smashed bottle threateningly and advanced.

"O-okay asshole, let's do this...Now I'll be owning two bitches." Scar didn't have to think. On instinct, he finally plowed a hand into his jacket and drew the Desert Eagle.

"Put...that...down." Scar slowly instructed, aiming the pistol at him.

The man just let the bottle fall out of his hand, and shattered on the old tile floor. However, instead of raising his hands in defeat, a smile formed on his face. Scar raised an eyebrow.

"Wanna play that game, huh?" The man murmured, and slowly reached behind the sofa.

He pulled out a shotgun, ignoring Scar aiming his gun at him. He was either calling Scar's bluff, or too drunk to contemplate the fight he was picking. However, Scar was bluffing. He wasn't going to shoot him. There was a baby here, and he didn't want to orphan it. And this guy was Sarafina's husband, despite how he didn't approve of that union.

It dawned on him that he was outgunned. At this range, the shotgun was the more powerful weapon. He weighed up his options. His best one was to hope this man was bluffing, make a break for it, get Sarafina to safety, and come back to get the baby. That was it. While the man pumped his shotgun, Scar quickly snapped around on his heels and bounded to the door. He yanked it open, and flung himself outside just before he was shot at.

"HEY!" The man yelled. _BANG! _He fired a slug at Scar, but due to his intoxication his aim was well off. The round smashed into the wall, kicking up a cloud of insulation dust.

Scar slammed the door shut, and grabbed Sarafina's arm. Luckily, she hadn't moved from her spot and was still in tears. Scar pulled her up and they both began running into the motel car park.

"What did you do?" Sarafina sobbed as they ran.

"Now's not the time!"

_BANG! _The man had exited the motel room, and had fired another stray slug at them. Scar reached over his shoulder and fired off two rounds_ BANG, BANG!_ They weren't intended to hit the man, but rather make him double over in fear. It gave them enough of a delay. Scar found the only functional looking car at the motel, and smashed the window open with his elbow viciously. He then quickly unlocked the door and leapt into the driver's seat.

"GET IN!" He ordered Sarafina, as he fiddled with the wires underneath the steering wheel. Eventually, the engine sparked to life and he slammed his foot down on the accelerator, not thinking to reverse as another shotgun round whistled past them.

The car bounced over the curb, and onto the road. Scar didn't hesitate and gunned the car away, leaving Sarafina's husband in the car park yelling in rage. As the rickety old car's wheel vibrated in Scar's grip, Scar saw the reflection of the motel's neon sign grow fainter and fainter. He eventually sighed loudly.

That was the second baby that got away from him. He didn't know what to say to Sarafina as she sat beside him, sobbing in her seat. After she seemed to stop, and a fair distance of driving in awkward silence, Scar spoke up.

"Sarafina...I'm sorry." He apologized, sighing again.

"No...It's okay. It was what was best for me...I j-just couldn't bring m-myself to abandon...again." Her croaky voice trailed off. Scar was somewhat relieved by her reaction.

"He was a bad man...a bad decision...It needed to end. I just couldn't do it myself." Sarafina admitted, looking away from Scar.

"And what of the baby, Matthew? What do you want me to do about it?" Scar asked, hinting at the power he still held. Power that could help him out.

"I like to call him _Mheetu. _Salin calls him Matthew. He can't grow up under that bastard...but I can't take care of him with another on the way." Sarafina patted her belly as she replied, exhaling loudly in defeat.

"Put him up for adoption?" Scar suggested, with them both making the assumption that Sarafina's husband would be tracked down, and the baby recovered.

Sarafina nodded sadly in response. Scar didn't know what to say to her. She sniffled loudly, before changing the topic.

"What about you? I haven't seen you in what, twenty years? How's it been?" _Terrible. Fucking terrible. _Scar thought to himself, disguising it with a sigh.

"Not too bad I guess. After Vietnam I quit the Head of the Military job, and focused entirely on politics. I just got back from a holiday in Australia." Scar replied, mentally counting the number of lies he told there. He then took his eyes off the road to make eye-contact with Sarafina. One of her eyes was severely bruised.

"And forget me...What happened to you? After I went back to Vietnam you apparently just disappeared. No warning, no goodbyes, Mufasa was about to get the PI1 to go find you." Scar told her, and she managed what appeared to be a weak smile.

"I guess I just realized that people had changed. I didn't want to cause a fuss, or worry, so I guess I thought it would be best if I just disappeared..." Sarafina muttered. Scar took a hand off the wheel to gesture for her to continue.

"And no goodbyes, no letter stuck to the fridge?" Sarafina shook her head.

"Anyway, I left Prideland City and moved out into the country. You know, just to get away from all the racket. And because I was afraid of a Communist overthrow..." As she said the last part, Sarafina flinched. But Scar gave no reaction. "Anyway, I took up a job in a diner. It didn't pay much, but it was enough. And then I met Salin..." Sarafina's voice trailed off again.

"Salin?" Scar raised an eyebrow.

"Salin Weaver. That man back there. He seemed like a nice guy initially. He was a well-paid truck driver, working out of the ore mines. He kept coming back to the diner, just to see me. And eventually we became...close." Sarafina told the story.

"Did you love him?" Scar asked bluntly, and she paused.

"Maybe at the time. But things became...intimate...nonetheless. Eventually I felt pressured to marry him. So I did." She conceded, and Scar shook his head.

"Anyway, I became pregnant and we had our first son, Mheetu, or rather 'Matthew' Weaver. But from there things only went downhill. Salin lost his job, and got turned into a negative wreck. So bang, he turned to alcohol to try and flush out his pain. And when booze didn't soak it up, he thought I would instead. He took it out on me..." Sarafina said, rubbing her bruises.

"We were forced to move back here, to try and get some money. But he'd turned into an abusive alcoholic prick...so there was no hope in hell. Until you showed up at least." Sarafina continued. This was followed by another uncomfortable silence between the two, filled only by the hum of the stolen car's motor.

"Thank you. We...we didn't part on the best of terms. And yet I still think you've just turned my life around for the better. Thank you. For saving my life, and my children's." Sarafina finally thanked him, looking away as she did so.

"Never mind." Scar brushed the thanks off.

He then gestured towards Sarafina's belly.

"Do you have a name yet?" He asked her, and she responded with a nod.

"Nala." She told him. "And she'll have _my _last name. Not Salin's."

"So...Nala Kelly and Matthew Weaver. Shame they won't be around each other much, like a brother and sister should." Scar thought aloud.

Once again, the mist shrouded the Pridelands again, and the omnipresent apparitions of Kivuli and Ammit appeared beside him. Kivuli looked thoughtful.

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**How was that to get us rolling again? There, I spat the secret. Nala and Sgt. Matthew Weaver (who is 'Mheetu') are actually brother and sister. Bit of Nala origin. Anyway, we're approaching the human version of the TLK1 timeline now...so buckle up, review, sub, fave and all that good shit. **

**Oh, and by the way...go on Chu10's profile. You'll find a link to her deviant art. There you'll find her artwork of the famous MHV character 'EJ' (Who will appear in this story later on). It's pretty fucking awesome.**

**This has been JJZ-109, and as always...Have a nice day.**


	2. The Heir

**Whoa, sorry about the wait people. I got a little busy. And distracted. Anyway, here's Chapter 29. Or 2. Whatever. Anyway, did you guys check out Chu10's art of EJ? Do it now. And I take it Simba won the 'Best Hero' poll. So I'm going to put up another one, if you want to go check that out. Anyway, we have reached the TLK1/MHV timeline. We are now in familiar territory, so I hope you guys enjoy what is coming up. Great to see that you guys liked that Nala and Weaver are brother and sister. I've held onto that secret for more than a year.**

**Guest: Cheers. Scar is the gentlemanly villain, isn't he? Well at times at least. And yeah, that was why Weaver and Nala were so close, but not romantically. Brother and Sister.**

**Vitani825: Ah, you got it ;) They are full siblings, but grew up apart. They were reunited by the war. I couldn't have them as twins because I mentioned previously that Weaver was 22 when Nala was 21. **

**Haradion: Cheers M8. Rolling again. And there's another secret I haven't told you, which you may like ;) But then again, you've probably used the force to figure it out by now. I've got a big mouth online.**

**Taylor: Cheers :) But I've got a bit too much work on my hands at the moment to try that. That story would be interesting, but not much really happened in that gap. It was a time of calm. And I couldn't do a sequel to MHV3. It would be too far into the future, and I would have no choice but to make it almost Sci-Fi. I doubt people would read it.**

**Carrie: I doubt she would. Nala turned out to be pretty vicious, as far as she could see at least. And she worked for Scar.**

**Cheers: JJZ-109**

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**CHAPTER 29. THE HEIR**

Kivuli looked at Scar thoughtfully.

"So that is how Nala came to be. It's enlightening to say the least. As well as the boy..." Kivuli said, to no reply from either Scar or Ammit. Scar decided to speak first.

"Yeah well, so is most of this you know. And what do you mean about the boy? Mheetu Weaver? He means nothing to me." Scar responded, and Kivuli shook his head.

"I would hardly say he was nothing, Scar. Between 'Mheetu', as Sarafina called him, and Nala, they caused you a hell of a lot of headaches. The main one being your downfall. They were the ones that tracked down Simba." Kivuli slowly paced past Scar as he explained.

"What do you mean? What headaches did Mheetu cause?" Scar raised an eyebrow suspiciously, and slowly followed Kivuli with his gaze.

"You still don't get it, do you? Let me spell it out for you: The boy's nickname was Mheetu. His official name was Matthew, Matthew Weaver. That name ring any bells?" Ammit loudly interrupted the deep thought.

Scar was lost for words. It was _him. _He could have killed the rat then and there.

"That's right, Scar. Number one enemy of the state until Nala revealed herself. Between the two of them, Weaver the rebel soldier and Nala the spy, they caused the most SRP soldier deaths ever recorded. A thorn in your side? Try nail, or long blade. Or better yet: a 7.62 mm bullet. Face it Scar, they destroyed you." Ammit sniggered at him, causing Scar to glare at him.

"Suffice to say she meant nothing _to you._" Kivuli corrected him.

"Was that why you didn't care if she became involved with your plotting? A field trip to East Side for instance?" He asked casually, but watched Scar's reaction intently. Scar scowled again, a momentary pang of guilt hit him.

"Now that one that was _not_ my fault! It was never about her. She was... collateral damage. Simba was the one who brought her there; she would have been perfectly safe if not for his bravado, but he wanted to show off, and put her in danger because of it. Hardly my fault." Scar argued

"Well what did you expect him to do? 'Only the bravest men etc.' who else was he going to show off to?" Ammit asked irritably. Scar merely shrugged.

"It's funny you should mention the little maggot now of times..." Scar mused as the white mist descended once again upon the wraith plane.

"Why is that?" Kivuli asked.

"Oh you'll see..."

The mist evaporated once more.

Scar sat behind the television at his home. Zira was in the other room, cooking some form of Italian food. Scar would normally be there with her, trying to learn. Cooking had recently become a hobby of his, or rather, and activity to keep him sane. But tonight he was too distraught to even stand up from the couch. He had heard rumors floating around the palace, which he could only hope were untrue. But deep down, his stained heart told him that they were fact. It was just too likely.

He was watching the news; the political report to be specific. Meanwhile he sipped on some scotch from his silver flask. He had noticed himself slowly becoming an alcoholic, but didn't wish to suppress it. He knew for a fact his mind was strong enough that he could keep control of himself, unlike certain others he tried not to think about. He awaited eagerly the results from the latest election, which he had worked so hard to prepare for. The current government was slowly but surely starting to lose favor among the people. The Pridelander Liberal Party had been in power for more than two decades, and in that time, the country had become significantly richer and stronger economically. But they were hyper-capitalist. The mega-corporations became stronger, the rich got richer, and the poor got poorer. Assistance in East Side had almost dropped completely. The suburb was now almost in a state of anarchy; a Ghost Town. People had noticed.

However, before the results were announced, a massive headline took dominance on the screen. Scar's heart sank. It was just a he had feared. A Royal Heir was going to be born. A round-bellied Sarabi, as well as a proud Mufasa, waved at the thousands of patriots below their Royal balcony.

"_Rumors surrounding the pregnancy of Queen Sarabi have been confirmed! In an official statement by the palace this afternoon, an heir to the throne is expected within the next few months. We now cross over to King Mufasa for his address to..." _

Scar zoned out. That child would be the next King of the country. There was no denying that. His dream of a Socialist Reform just became a hell of a lot cloudier. Alcohol trickled down his face as Scar felt his grip on the flask loosen, and eventually it clattered to the ground. His hand then started trembling uncontrollably in rage. His eye twitched.

It was right then that something snapped inside Scar. In a minute everything seemed to come back to him. His mother lying broken in a car wreck, Calibanov's execution, the duel with Ahadi, the tears in his eyes as he solemnly trekked through the fields of Vietnam, and the horrific Napalm-stricken bodies. The capture. The three years imprisonment in Hanoi. Zira's pregnancy. The Viet Cong attack. Hissis mercilessly shot up. Kira's tiny grave in comparison to the great Kings there.

Everything he had lost. Everything he had sacrificed. His family. The crown seeped in the blood of his family. Uru, Ahadi and Kira, murdered over it. His eye scarred, Zira's ear. The blood. So much blood poured over that government.

Mufasa felt like the worst kind of traitor. All his suffering, all the bloodshed, all the sacrifice...He deserved something. Was he going to get it? No. He blamed Mufasa for the death of his son. He had slacked off with border security, and unlike the palace, had not posted the usual PI1 bodyguards to take care of his house. And bang, VC _somehow_ managed to sneak in. He had sat back and eaten caviar in the Saigon command while Scar was tortured by the Viet Cong. And he had the gall to call it his military service. Now he dares to stand there like a fool and steal the only thing he had left. Now he would have no heir. No lineage. No legacy. He would depart the world without a trace. Did he dislike Mufasa? He hated him now. With a passion.

In a barely controllably fit of rage, Scar patted his hip for his Desert Eagle so he could blast Mufasa's image on the television screen. But there was nothing there.

He felt his face slide into his hands and tried to stop himself from sobbing. If he could cope with all that other crap, he could cop this, couldn't he? Hardly.

There was only one hope left. And that hope seemed to come like a bucket of sand tipped over a raging fire. It kept Scar's sanity, or what remained of it. It was the election results. Last time, the PNSP had gotten a massive boost when images of the injustice at East Side became public, as well as fictional work describing a non-monarchist Pridelands. They held 14 seats out of 150 in the senate, nothing compared to the Liberals' 73.

The result came as a calming shock to Scar.

The people had voted for his party big time. They held 60 seats out of 150. The Liberals held 62. They were almost the largest political movement in the Pridelands. Scar tried to think of likely catalysts, it could be his massive campaign, or then again, maybe they were pleased when he announced the disarmament of the PNSP's private security force.

He didn't know how the sudden news of a Royal Baby would affect future progress, but one thing was for certain.

Socialism in the Pridelands was growing.

Ammit and Kivuli stared at the confused figure of Scar, half possessed by rage, half clouded with ambitious curiosity. Ammit licked his lips; it was as if this was the part of his story he had been waiting for all along, like a film defined by a certain scene. Kivuli gazed at the vision, his face ashen.

"So this is your fall... Your decent to the monster you became. I was wrong. It started with Ahadi, but here your decent is complete..."

The real Scar stared at himself expressionless.

"Yes... It begins." Unnoticed by Ammit or Kivuli, he shed a single tear. But when it landed on the ground his stamped a boot over it.

The mist shrouded the image like a curtain, before slowly retracting again, revealing a new image.

_Prideland City._

_Mid 1994._

The first lip of the golden dawn peered over the horizon into the Pridelands. The light fell across the cities, and far beyond at the main metro area itself. The country slowly started to animate itself, the birds chirped the tunes of the morning, traffic slowly started to pick up, and several excited radios broadcast the news the country had been waiting for.

The palace had the great blue, green and white Pridelander flag flying high above in the gentle morning breeze, as well as several big screen and television cameras stationed in the memorial park. Prideland Marines in full uniform marched proudly around the palace perimeter, unfazed by the time of the day.

The usual morning songs on the radio stations soon came to a silence. There was no noise. No static. Nothing.

Suddenly, a great cry in the Native tongue broke out on all stations:

_**NANTS INGONYAMA BAGITHI BABA!**_

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**How was that? We are officially in TLK1-MHV again. Scar's political power is starting to grow...ooh...As is the ambition. Familiar faces coming soon, as well as familiar scenes from TLK - humanized. Except this time around, I'm a better writer. So this will be like the digitally restored Blu-Ray version. **

**Anyway, for next TLKMHV poll question...Sorry if this isn't up the alley of any of you female readers out there...The Lion King: MHV series is known for having a beautiful collection of vehicles. From the famous Royal Interceptor, to Kovu's DeLorean...Which is your favorite ride?**

**This has been JJZ-109, and as always...Have a nice day.**


	3. The Prince

**How's it going guys? Here's chapter 30. We have now officially entered the TLK1 timeline. The latter half of this chapter is a remastered version of the original one from MHV1, and also is in the POV of Scar. Hope you guys enjoy it. And I get that the cars weren't so much a popular poll topic...So I'll put a new one in place. We're in familiar ground now folks!**

**Haradion: Yep, Nazis, Commies, the lot. Scar's ascension is a direct cop of that of Adolf Hitler's. Well not that direct. And I think I have you another clue in an email. That's the most you're getting...**

**Kaladion: Good to be back, bru. Plots of murder, secrets and betrayal? That's my speciality. Coming up!**

**Scbenson2001: Well Sarafina Is Not That Important And Nala Is Not Going To Be in Part 11 Because There Is Only 2 Parts. II Is A Roman Numeral.**

**Guest: Yes, she would be. Suspense quenched here.**

**Cheers: JJZ-109**

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**CHAPTER 30. THE PRINCE**

_**Sithi uhm ingonyama**_

The ancient cry echoed on all radio and television sets across the country. All who heard it knew why it was on instead of the usual morning tunes. Palace business. Presentations. Celebrations.

_**NANTS INGONYAMA BAGITHI BABA**_

_**Sithi uhmmm ingonyama**_

_**Ingonyama**_

Young and old, black man and white man alike made the exodus. Even at such an early hour, the highways and streets were packed. Special train services ran to the palace. Pridelander flags whistled in the breeze as they were stuck the the antennae of cars. It was a public holiday for most. News and media helicopters buzzed across the pink early morning sky, making their journey to cover the events about to take place.

Vintage Pridelander Spitfires flew in a neat V formation above the palace, leaving streams of Blue and Green smoke behind them in their wake.

_**Siyo Nqoba**_

Patriots and regular citizens came, the wealthy, the middle class. East Side Residents and Vietnam War refugees were noticeably absent.

_**Ingonyama**_

_**Ingonyama nengw' enamabala**_

And a few miles adjacent of the Palace, sitting behind his kitchen TV, a single figure was not enjoying the celebrations. His short beard was ragged and stubbly, his face gaunt and worn out a shadow of his former self. Scar watched the entire City, a great mass of life and hope coming to celebrate the joyful occasion. He glared at them disdainfully. Pathetic. He looked up to where Fr/Dr. Rafiki was know holding the baby up over the balcony. A Foolish tradition. For a moment his heart leapt. _Funny Michael Jackson can't get away with it. Wouldn't it be absolutely hilarious if that crazy priest just...lost his grip... _

No such luck. And there was enough security officers down there that one would think at least one of them could catch him. He saw Simba looking down, straight at the TV camera. It seemed the baby was not only a few days old and he was already lording over him.

"Happy Birthday Prince Simba...Don't expect many more of those..." Scar sneered to himself, before spitefully shutting off the small TV.

He put his head in his hands, before tiredly standing up and heading for his pantry.

Kivuli reappeared beside Scar, looking at the vision before them with interest.

"That could have so easily been Kira in his place. Why do you hate him so much?" Kivuli asked in amazement. Scar glanced at the man beside him.

"I can feel the enmity of you, even now, even at this shade. Why?" he asked.

"Isn't it obvious? He took away the last thing I had that I valued." Scar snarled.

"He was just a kid..." Kivuli observed.

"He only had to be born to do the damage. In the Instant he was conceived, everything I had lost became worthless. Mufasa and Sarabi for creating him... Simba for just _being_... It was enough for me to hate all of them..." Scar hissed. Ammit smiled.

"I can relate to that. You want something... And you haven't got it... So you are prepared to kill. That's the way mankind was intended to work Scar." Ammit added, and was met with a frown from Kivuli.

"Simba didn't kill Kira, Scar." Kivuli said, turning to Scar.

Scar turned to Kivuli is a second and backhanded him across the face. Kivuli's lip lit up like a flame, flickered once and turned to mist, reforming a short distance away. Scar regained control of himself with a great effort and turned back to the vision as it melted away and reformed almost instantly.

Scar before his stove now, gently minding a silver pot of bubbling pasta sauce. He stirred the sauce slowly, yet menacingly. Italian food had always been a favorite of his, and Zira had recently taught him how to prepare it. For the first time in decades he had found himself a hobby, instead of sitting behind a bar drunkenly lamenting his sorrows for hours on end. The assassination of Bane had eased that a bit.

He tried to remember what to add next, was it herbs? No. He had done that earlier. Garlic? That sounded right. He half-heartedly fiddled with his tray of ingredients, and accidentally knocked the garlic clove, sending it rolling onto the floor.

Another thing that got away from him. He was noticing these tiny misfortunes everywhere, even if it was this minor.

Before he bent down to pick it up, he felt his pocket vibrate violently. He shoved his hand in, pulling out his Nokia mobile phone. As it turned out, Mufasa was calling him. He shook his head, irritated. He pressed the 'decline call' button for seemingly the tenth time. When would the man get it into his head he didn't want to talk to him? The green screen's glow died down, and read _M. Taylor - Missed Call. _Scar disregarded the phone and tossed it away carelessly. If only it had existed when he truly needed it. That annoying device could have saved his son's life.

He then finally decided to pick up the garlic, and replace it on his cutting board. In the background a gentle Jazz tune played on his radio while he worked. He placed his knife on the garlic, about to cut, when suddenly his music was interrupted.

"_We interrupt this song for a special announcement - King Mufasa's son has just been presented to a crowd of over 100,000 people, this new Prince, named 'Simba' ..." _Scar shut the device off before he could hear anymore.

Sighing, he picked up the garlic he was about to cut, and held it up to his face.

"Life's not fair, is it?" He talked to the vegetable as if it were an animate object.

"You see I shall never be in power, and you shall never see the light of another day. Adieu..." He positioned the knife again, and was about cut.

Suddenly a familiar voice came out of nowhere and startled him.

"Didn't your mother ever tell you not to play with your food?" Scar looked up sharply, and his gaze was drawn to the kitchen window right beside the stove.

He had left it open to vent the steam from his cooking, and now, leaning on the windowsill from outside, was Zazu. Scar rolled his eyes. _Don't you ever refer to my mother you pompous prick. _Scar thought to himself. Zazu wore his typical light blue Royal Security uniform, as well as those annoyingly round spectacles.

"What do you want?" Scar asked, annoyed about his sudden appearance.

"I thought I'd stop by and tell you that King Mufasa's on his way, and expecting a good excuse for missing the presentation." Zazu informed him. _Still kissing his ass, hey?_

"Not happy is he?" Scar asked dryly, ignoring his sauce for a moment.

"No shit, Sherlock. Pissed off if I do say so myself." Zazu replied, looking away from the window casually.

Scar leant forward to threaten him, but on his way accidentally knock his salt dispenser into his pot of boiling sauce. He stared at it for a second, infuriated, before snapping his head back around to stare into Zazu's overly confident eyes.

"Oh look Zazu, you've made me ruin my lunch." Scar said painfully calmly. Zazu still wasn't getting it. Its like he couldn't read people at all.

"You'll have more than that ruined when the King is through with you." Zazu replied, with a confident smirk.

"Ooh, I quiver in fear..." Scar growled. That was it. He had pushed too many buttons. He leant towards the kitchen window again.

"Now, Scar...ugh..." Zazu tried to get a word in, but before he could react, he had five fingers viciously closing on his throat. He choked and sputtered, gripping Scar's wrists, but he just simply wouldn't let go.

"_SCAR!" _A deep, familiar voice boomed out from behind Scar. He slowly turned his head around, to look back inside his kitchen.

Mufasa stood at the kitchen doorway, with a stern expression etched on his face, and arms folded. He wore the same white King's uniform he had before, with a royal red slash and several undeserved medals pinned to his chest. Scar didn't show him the fear he thought was instilling, but acted rather casually.

"Mm hmm?" Scar hummed in response.

"Drop him." Mufasa ordered bluntly, and Scar complied. Zazu slid out of Scar's fist, gasping for breath. He then disappeared from the window completely.

Scar then turned completely to face Mufasa, trying not to tremble in rage. He had taken the last things that meant anything to him, and now he had the nuts to come here and give him a reprimand for not coming to celebrate. He noticed his cooking knife was right there, all he had to do was pick it up and throw it. _No. _Scar thought. That wasn't necessary. Yet.

"Why if it isn't my big brother descending from on high to mingle with the commoners..." Scar hissed sarcastically. Mufasa ignored the remark.

"First of all Scar, you shouldn't leave your house unlocked like that. I thought you would know that better than anyone." The comment stung a little, but Scar shook it off. _Yes, but this time I've got nothing in here you can allow me to lose. _

"Sarabi and I didn't see you at the presentation this morning, was anything wrong? You didn't answer any of my calls." Mufasa said sternly, scowling down on Scar.

"Oh shit, that was today? I feel simply awful. My phone was dead. Must have slipped my mind, I guess." Scar said, half sarcastically, half playing dumb.

He heard more footsteps from inside his house, and soon Zazu joined them inside the kitchen.

"Well as 'slippery' as your mind is, as the King's brother you should have been first in line..." He cut himself off, as Scar raised a fist at him. He then lowered it once Zazu had shut up.

"I was 'first in line'...until the little _maggot _was born." Scar hissed at him. Mufasa spun him around to look at him by the shoulder and got close to his face.

"That _maggot _is my son. And your future King." Mufasa reminded him, completely writing off the possibility of a republic.

Turning away, Scar made a sarcastic 'fancy' pose as he walked.

"Well then I better practice my curtsey." He murmured, pinching the two sides of his black t-shirt, mimicking the action.

He started to make his way out of the kitchen, but Mufasa's voice interrupted him.

"Don't turn your back on me, Scar." He growled. Scar didn't bother to turn around and reply.

"Oh no Mufasa, perhaps you shouldn't turn your back on me." Scar hissed in response.

Suddenly he was grabbed by the shirt and yanked back, Mufasa then pressed him up against the wall menacingly, gripping his collar.

"Was that a threat?" Mufasa snarled. _More like a reference to past events. _Scar thought.

"Temper, temper. I wouldn't _dream _of threatening you." Scar said too casually for the situation. His relationship with his brother had of course been terrible recently. There were heated, shouting arguments, but it rarely got physical.

"Shame, I wonder why not?" Zazu snuffed spitefully.

"Well as fair as brains go, I got the lion's share. But when it comes to brutal strength..." Scar shoved Mufasa off him and started to walk away again.

"...I'm afraid I'm at the shallow end of the gene pool." _At least now I am. _Scar thought. Mufasa was in very good shape for a man his age, but Scar on the other hand had started to frail a little. A shadow of the fit young man he used to be.

Mufasa said no more, and Scar slammed the door behind him as he entered his and Zira's bedroom. He almost collapsed down his bed, and put his head in his hands. There was no denying what was going through his head. That little maggot of a child would have to go, but there was so many things stopping him. He couldn't kill a baby. It was morally wrong on so many levels (which usually wasn't an issue for him) and would do now good anyway. He needed Mufasa to be an emotional wreck, so he could take his place in power.

He would have to wait once more. However, patience was a virtue that had been hammered into him by the past. He could endure it, for now. And his PNSP party was growing in power by the day. Things were slowly starting to piece together, despite numerous roadblocks.

Simba was a setback he could work around.

He then slowly got up and paced over to the window. He looked through a small gap in the curtains, watching the activity out the front of his house. He saw Mufasa's black Range Rover roll away, and with it, most of the media reporters and paparazzi. Soon they had abandoned his road completely. _Good. _Scar thought, and scratched his chin.

* * *

**How was that? Remastered well? My first go was a bit childish, I think. Little more mature this piece is. Anyway, I said I'd have a new poll question. Here it is: What is your favorite MHV quote? **

**This has been JJZ-109, and as always...Have a nice day.**


	4. The East Side Plot

**Good evening ladies and gentlemen, sorry about the delay. I recently got me GTA-V, which is amazing, and sidetracked me a little. Anyway, who's the mood for a new character to be introduced? Or better yet, a famous scene remastered? A lot of good shit in this chapter. Foreshadowing (For a few people), plotting, and even a famous musical number is included. Famous scenes approaching as well. Update is finally here! And in my opinion I think it's one of the better ones. Secrets hinted at.**

**Haradion: Ain't that the truth. It's so damn obvious**

**Kaladion: It's a classic ain't it? I reckon you'll enjoy this.**

**Em: Well, didn't you leave me a message. If I can write them out properly, change a few names around, maybe they can be published, and maybe film adapted. But hey, that's a long shot. Glad you like them that much you want to act them out. Good luck with the effects. I listened to it, yep. It suits him for the first half. But for the rampage at the end I had _Berzerk _in mind. Heckler needs a villain song. Cheers for the feedback.**

**Samantha: Well I don't want to go through them all in an AN. **

**Cheers: JJZ-109**

* * *

**CHAPTER 31. THE EAST SIDE PLOT**

"So you decided to kill a child... To take back what you felt was rightfully yours after all the atrocities in your life. You made plans to end the life of your own nephew _to make yourself feel better! _" Kivuli asked incredulously.

"I had a right to power, whether that was through Monarchy or Socialism. If the brat hadn't been born, then I would have been made King after my brother's death." Scar told him. Kivuli shook his head.

"And the fact that he had done nothing in his life to deserve death didn't cross your mind?" Scar turned around to him angrily.

"Of course it crossed my fucking mind." Scar grumbled. "But you've been sitting on a cloud in paradise too long to remember what kind of hell the land of the living can be for those left behind! People need a paradise in this life not the next! In the real world Kivuli, it doesn't matter who deserves to live and who deserves to die! Calibanov deserved death. Bane deserved death. Ahadi deserved death. I tried to make it my business to ensure they got what they deserved. But life not like that is it Kivuli? Did Uru deserve death? Did Hissis? Did Kira?" Scar glared at Kivuli with contempt that was returned with the same venom.

"What people deserve and what they get are never the same. What Simba deserved is hardly relevant. If you knew anything about suffering you would understand that. Life is not fair. You can't expect it to be. Saying that Simba didn't deserve to die means _nothing_."

"So what _actually_ happened?" Ammit entered the conversation.

"With what?"

"With this _plan_? A I assume you lured Simba to the Industrial area somehow and set the locals on them?" Ammit grinned. Scar rolled his eyes.

"Oh that. Yes. Things went well enough at first – but the dickheads let them slip right through their fingers, then daddy showed up with the cops. It was a miracle no one was killed – but Simba was technically trespassing. Strictly speaking, he entered a liquor store underage when it was closed. The owners had a right to act." Scar told him.

"I bet you reacted well to that."

"Better than you might have thought..." Scar admitted.

The air faded into white mist again, and the inside of Scar's house became visible.

_2006_

Scar sat at his coffee table, hunched over a marble chessboard. Opposite him was a young friend he had made; Thomas 'Tojo' Jones. He had been with the child ever since he was a toddler. He had taken him to football matches, taught him skills (like how to shoot, for instance) and eventually became the prominent male figure in the kid's life. His father, Christian Jones had broken away from his family; too invested in his military work. War had become like a terrible addictive drug for Jones, one that he couldn't give up. Civilian life was something he could never fit into.

That left Carmen and Tojo often by themselves, and Tojo had often spent time with Scar, due to his frequent availability and his unusual fondness of him. Now Tojo was 16, and really needed that father figure. Scar didn't fail to provide, as he never had that opportunity with Kira. And there was something about Tojo that Scar couldn't get a read on. He wasn't like a typical teen. He wasn't very clever. And he was nothing like Simba. Scar often wondered if he saw himself in the kid, but struggled to match up the traits. He was different. And that was half the reason why he liked him.

"Check. Knight takes Rook." Tojo commented as he moved his knight piece on the chessboard. Scar scratched his chin, and thought for a moment, before replying.

"Ah...not for long. King takes Knight." Scar commentated his actions as he removed Tojo's piece from the board. He then looked back up at Tojo with a casual flicker in his eyes.

That Knight had been Tojo's last good chess piece. He grumbled to himself as he sat back against the leather sofa. Scar was far too cunning and calculating for him. He was more of a doer.

"You need to work on that strategy, my boy." Scar sighed casually, grinning at Tojo.

"Whatever you say Uncle Scar. I got nothin' better to do." Tojo conceded, Scar shook his head at him.

"What about your grades? Study? Don't you want a good job?" Scar questioned him.

"Nah, I'll probably fall back on a military career like my dad. You seen how good I am with a gun. For my age at least..." Tojo told him, trying not to make eye contact with Scar.

"Well if that's the way you're going to go...use your skills wisely at least. Join Royal Security or something, they'll pay well and educate you well." Scar instructed him, reaching for his mug of coffee on the table.

"They better pay me better than what they pay my mom." Tojo said, and sighed. It was true. The Royal Admin was paid very little considering their job importance. Scar thought it was injustice, especially to Carmen.

Scar sighed, and was about to reply, when suddenly a faint knocking broke out. Their heads both snapped around to face the door, and Scar exhaled loudly again as he reluctantly stood up to answer.

"Hold on a second." Scar said he began walking towards the door. He hoped that this was important, even though he wasn't doing anything particularly pressing.

He undid the lock, before slowly swinging his front door open. The people that met him gave him a small shock; one composed of half surprise and half anger. Zazu stood there, leaning against the frame, tapping his feet. _Like you're welcome here. _Scar thought angrily, but disguised it well. Next to him was young Prince Simba, in his school uniform, also looking a bit too casual for his liking.

_Ugh...Now what?_

"What is it?" Scar asked impatiently. Simba was the one to answer for a change.

"I just need you to drop me off to school." Simba answered, looking uncertain about something.

Scar breathed out loudly through his nose, before meeting Zazu's consistent stare at him. He nodded and flicked his head towards the inside of his house.

"Fine, come in and get my keys while I put on my jacket." Scar told him, and Simba quietly complied.

Scar marched back inside his house, and into the living room where Tojo still sat. He grabbed his jacket off the sofa and quickly pulled it on, eyeing down Simba as he wandered into the kitchen. Tojo looked up at him.

"What's goin' on?" He asked.

"I have to drop our Prince off to his education." Scar replied, with hints of sarcasm surrounding his words.

"And what 'bout our game?"

"We'll have to pack it up. Why don't you go and ride to your girlfriend's house?" Scar suggested, and Tojo shrugged.

"I dunno. Tama's parents are really strict and all. They won't like me rocking up like that." Tojo answered, a little unsure.

"Who gives a fuck about them? Go and enjoy yourself, you're teenagers for Christ's sake." Scar almost snapped at him, and Tojo nodded, before he too stood up.

"Uncle Scar..." Simba stood in the doorway to the living room, dangling the keys to Scar's Challenger in the air. _What's your hurry brat?_

"Fine, alright. Let's roll. Catch you later TJ. You and your mother are always welcome here." Scar called out, wondering if Simba would pick up on the last part. He and Mufasa usually weren't welcome there.

Tojo sighed as he heard the motor of Scar's car start, and start to propel the vehicle away from the house. He couldn't care less about school. He was educated enough at this stage, and Scar was teaching him all the things he needed to know for his lowly ambitions. Of course he was capable of more, but he couldn't see it any other way. All he wanted was to be with those he loved. His crush Tamarin 'Tama' Alvero was one, so was his mother. And then there were all those Royals he had made friends with, including Scar.

His father's absence had made things difficult for him. Scar had been the only man to keep him on track, and stop him from turning into a rebel. He sat there for several minutes, just pondering all the different paths ahead of him. He was snapped out of his daze when the front door swung open again.

This time it was Zira, carrying bags of groceries with her. She noticed him instantly and placed her bags down.

"Oh, Tojo. Shouldn't you be in school?" She raised an eyebrow at him.

"You ain't need to know Pythagoras or Ancient History to fire a gun, Aunt Zira." Tojo remarked, miming a pistol shooting action.

"Thomas E. Jones! Don't talk like that, you're a nice boy and I'm sure there's better lives for you than that." Zira told him.

"Whatever you say, Zira. I'm preparing for the worst." Tojo said casually. Zira gently pushed up his chin so she could look him in the eyes.

"But aim for the best." She whispered to him. "Now get out of here...Go to school! Educate yourself!" She ordered him and he nodded reluctantly, being pressured towards the door.

"Fine, fine. I'm goin'." Tojo replied as he walked out the open door, leaving Zira by herself.

_Foolish kid, if he spent less time clowning around who knows how great he could be. _Zira thought, and made to close the door behind him, but it was suddenly yanked back open again. This time, Scar came through. He stripped his jacket off and carelessly threw it into the living room. Drawing his mobile phone, he stormed towards the kitchen, completely ignoring his wife.

"Hey, where have you been?" Zira asked, but Scar kept going.

"Dropping the Prince to school, now I need a minute by myself in the kitchen. I have to make a call."

Zira watched suspiciously as he slammed the door behind him. She casually began rifling through her groceries, but couldn't help but overhear some of Scar's conversation in the other room.

"_Hello?...Yes this is Scar... and I got a something I need you to do for me...Well Shenzi if you shut up and let me talk I'd tell you what's in it for you..."_

Zira could hardly wait any longer. As soon as Scar opened the kitchen door, she was there glaring at him with arms folded. He looked unusually upbeat.

"What's going on?" She asked seriously.

"Zira...we...are back in business. Screw Socialist reform. We're going to do this the quick way." Scar answered and pushed past her.

She followed him curiously into their garage, hoping he would clear things up. He almost punched the light switch on as he entered the dark space, and made for a corner filled with boxes that hadn't been touched in years. Grabbing one off the top of a stack, he blew the dust off it and tore away the packaging tape with his fingers.

"What do you mean quick way?" Zira interrogated him.

"I inherit the throne, then it is within my power to dissolve the monarchy and establish my own government." Scar replied, leaving out quite a few details. Zira knew him too well to be puzzled by that. The realization hit her like a bullet.

"You did what!" Zira exclaimed at what Scar just did.

"Zira, try to remain calm!" He urged her

"Scar, I gather you just attempted High Treason! How am I supposed to remain calm?" Scar looked at Zira in annoyance.

"It's not as though it's the first time. Don't get all self-righteous on me Zira. If the King knew half of the things we are capable of he'd have us in federal prison – brother or not. A fraction of the things I did to loosen the tongues of a few Viet Cong would be enough to have me shot, so don't go all high and mighty on me."

"Scar...Ahadi and Bane were one thing, but Simba -"

"– is the reason why I'll never have power. Don't tell me you'd rather I let the prick become leader in my place?"

"Don't be a twit." Zira said, sticking out her tongue as if in reaction to a horrible taste.

"I just hope you were careful. If the feds got wind of it –"

"It was a secure line, don't worry. Mufasa won't be an issue." Scar said dismissively. Zira looked at him in surprise before he continued.

"Once we remove Simba from the picture. Mufasa will be an emotional wreck; it would be enough that he stands down as King." Zira worked this over in her head.

"Ah... Hmmm. Do you think it is wise to destabilize the King though? The last emotional wreck we had for a king nearly ended both your life and mine. And drove the economy into the ground."

"I am stronger now. Older, smarter and oh so more powerful."

"Powerful enough to engage the Prideland Military in war?" She said. Scar stopped, considering the possibility.

"I am well aware you overplay your supposed weakness to the king so you seem less of a threat, but if he ends up like Ahadi did, can we afford him to lose control?" Zira said, moving next to him, putting an arm around him. Scar sighed contently as she did.

"A more permanent solution would be advisable...Regardless I think we should start re-arming and recruiting another private force." Scar smiled at this.

"Think of it Scar... Mufasa had already proved he is unfit to be Head of State. Enough is enough. I know he's your brother, but he hasn't exactly been supportive of you. We must all make our sacrifices. The best thing Mufasa can do right now... Is to hand over the country. Quietly, cleanly and smoothly. Without any suspicions coming back to us, or damn conspiracy theorists on Wikileaks." She told him. Scar nodded thoughtfully. Zira forged onwards.

"Mufasa's time is _over_ Scar. Put a strong government in place! With me by your side! And if any of the people need convincing... I think we can really on that Privateer force for some persuasion..." Scar smiled.

"This only if Simba and my contacts follow through though. I have an idea: a terrible accident which claimed the lives of both our King and his heir? I think I may have something in mind... But we'll have to wait...Odds are the morons will fail me. See if you can find out what the feds are working on at the moment..." Zira nodded and left.

Scar was left in the garage by himself, so he turned to look at the contents of his box. There were brown uniforms, with red trimming and a sickle and hammer branded onto the collar...

_Several hours later_

Scar wrinkled his nose in disgust as he wheeled a trolley through the corridors of Shenzi's apartment. It stank of alcohol, and perhaps vomit. Spray painted graffiti lined the corridor walls. He eventually came to the door he was looking for, and swallowed his irritation before he opened it. Of course they would screw that job up. Even being paid $10,000 each, and having two defenseless children wasn't enough for them.

He carefully opened the door, and was met with the bickering of his allies. Banzai and Ed sat on a couch grumpily, while Shenzi lectured them. He noticed Banzai had a proper good black eye.

"_Man I hate those Royal white guys."_

"_They're so pushy...hairy...stinky..." _

"_And man are they...UGLY!" _The trio burst into laughter. Scar cleared his throat loudly, so their heads all snapped around in fear.

"Surely we're not all that bad, hey?" Scar interrupted them, grinning slightly at their surprise.

"Oh it's you. We thought it was somebody important." Shenzi sighed.

"Yeah like Mufasa." Banzai added from the couch.

"I see..." Scar mumbled, looking over the gang-banger thugs.

"Tell me about it, I just hear that name and I shudder..." Shenzi said to herself.

"Mufasa..." Banzai tested her, and true to her word, she shuddered, in a little bit of an exaggerated manner.

"Ooh, do it again." Shenzi said, and Banzai complied, amused. Ed burst out laughing. _Little things amuse little minds. _Scar thought.

"I'm surrounded by dickheads..." Scar said out loud, scratching his head.

"Oh by the way, where's our money for today, huh?" Banzai changed the topic rather rudely.

Scar pulled a brief case off the top of his box pile. He clicked it open, to reveal stacks of cash lined up neatly inside it. He saw the trio almost drool at the 30,000 dollars before them.

"I don't think you really deserve this. I practically gift-wrapped those kids for you and didn't even dispose them..." He said, tossing the briefcase at them carelessly.

The trio desperately snatched at the paper to take their cut of the money.

"Well you know, it wasn't like they was alone, Scar. I mean what were we supposed to do, kill Mufasa?" Shenzi asked, as she flicked through a stack of dollar notes.

"_No shit..." _Scar whispered menacingly. The three looked up at him in surprise.

He cracked his knuckles, before leaping down the small flight of stairs that connected the front area to the main living room of the apartment.

"_I know that your powers of retention...are as wet...as a Capitalist's backside..." _He rounded on Ed, who was fiddling with a small portable gaming device, probably stolen.

"_But THICK as you are, pay attention! My words are a matter of pride." _Scar whacked the device out of his hands, inspiring Ed to quickly stand up and snap into the attention position.

"_It's clear from your vacant expression...The lights aren't all on upstairs." _He heard Shenzi and Banzai chuckling at them, and snapped around.

"_But we're talking Kings and revolutions...Even YOU can't be caught unawares!" _Scar sung quickly, and scared them into falling backwards on their plastic chairs.

He started to lead them out into the corridor, having Ed drag his trolley with them. He started to make his way outside, and use the emergency stairs on the side of the building as his method of getting down.

"_So prepare for the chance of a lifetime, be prepared for sensational news! I shining new era, is tip-toeing nearer..." _He sung, prancing down the stairs.

"_And where do we feature?" _Shenzi interrupted him.

"_Just listen to teacher..." _Scar sung, rudely shaking her by her cheek.

They finally got down onto the ground, into an alley. Several heads popped out of windows to see the commotion.

"_I know it sounds sordid, but you'll be rewarded...When at last I am given my dues! An injustice deliciously squared...__**BE PREPARED**__!" _Scar sang as he tossed them each a PNSP uniform and hat.

"Yeah, we'll be prepared...for what?" Banzai asked, with an officer's hat clumsily sitting on top of his cheap snapback.

"For the death of the King!" Scar yelled out, trying to attract attention.

"What is he sick?"

"No you imbecile, we're going to kill him. Simba too." Scar answered sinisterly.

"Great idea, who needs a government? _No King! No Government! Fuck the police! La lala la la!" _

"DICKHEADS THERE WILL BE A GOVERNMENT!"

"But you said -" Banzai looked for where Scar had gone, he had climbed up on top of a building under maintenance via scaffolding, and was shouting to them.

"Stick with me...AND YOU'LL NEVER NEED MONEY AGAIN!" Scar said, and on cue, Ed shone a huge floodlight over his figure.

Meanwhile, Shenzi and Banzai started rallying people who had gathered at the noise, and began handing out PNSP uniforms and illegally trafficked AK rifles. It didn't take long for them to start gathering in rows, and marching about the streets.

"_Hail Scar!" _They yelled out, making a Nazi-like salute, except with a closed fist.

"_Hail Scar!" _More and more rows of recruited Privateers chimed in.

Scar returned the gesture, extending an arm with a closed fist. He watched them all march below him on the road, with rifles held tight against their chest, and kicking their boots up high. The unified thumping of boots was soon drowned out by the voices...

"_It's great that we'll soon be connected, with a leader who'll be all time adored!" _

"_Of course quid-pro-quo you're expected...to take certain duties on board..." _Scar ran a finger across his throat as he sung this.

"_The future is littered with prizes...And although I'm the main addressee..."_ Scar gracefully leapt down the scaffolding and landed safely on the road, before some unsure looking recruits. He grabbed one by the collar.

"_The point that I must emphasize is...YOU WON'T GET A CENT WITHOUT ME!" _

Scar then continued to march through East Side, and eventually came across the stadium. Thousands of recruits followed him, marching in neat rows.

"_So prepare for the coup of the century! Be prepared, for the murkiest scam!" _He, Shenzi, Banzai and Ed all boarded the rickety metal lift that took them to the top of on of the light spires that stood over the stadium.

_(We'll have cash, we'll have guns)_

"_Meticulous planning, tenacity spanning...Decades of denial, is simply why I'll be leader undisputed...Respected, saluted and seen for the wonder I am!" _

_(Ooh)_

"_Yes my guns and ambitions are bared...BE PREPARED!" _

"_YES OUR GUNS AND AMBITIONS ARE BARED, __**BE PREPARED!"**_

* * *

**Well how was that for a proper modernization? Just to clear something up, this ain't the 'Tojo' featured towards the end of MHV3. This one is a bit more _familiar._ I don't own the song, please don't sue me Disney. I blew all my money on games. I own the modern changes though. By the way, the favorite MHV quote poll is still up! **

**And also...I put an official timeline of the Pridelands up on my profile. It starts from its settlement, goes through WW2, Mohatu, Ahadi, Mufasa and Scar's reign...The Outlander Insurgency, the plight of Friedrich Heckler and pretty much every major national event written or even mentioned. Check it out!**

**This has been JJZ-109, and as always...Have a nice day.**


	5. The Traffic Rush

**Here it is people, the chapter we've all been waiting for. And by Christ is it long. And good. This was my favorite from the original Judgement by a long shot, so this was brilliant to do. This is the remastered Stampede. The concept was right the first time I wrote it, but my writing maturity wasn't. Anyway, get ready for a thrill ride! And a sad one too. **

**Haradion: Yep, he's the best of both worlds ;) But for fuck's sake... How the hell did you decode that. Anyway, Vietnam-traumatized men like Christian Jones were known not to adapt to regular life well, it is sad.**

**Vitani825: Yes, sort of. It's a lot to ask for TLK fans to adapt to a Human universe, but to stomach a human and alternate universe at the same time is a bit much. I'd pick between the two. My timeline? I used history combined with my imagination. Well, research makes perfect. Or if you are interested in that stuff to begin with.**

**Cheers: JJZ-109**

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**CHAPTER 32. THE TRAFFIC RUSH**

The air evaporated around them, and Scar reeled from the chock. He had been staring intently at the figure and was surprised when it disappeared. Ammit laughed once more, as he always did when Scar displayed emotion that wasn't anger, fear, or rage.

"That...was not quite how I remembered it..." Scar told them, troubled.

"How do you remember it?" Kivuli asked.

"Well, as a lot more of a 'rougher' call to arms...rather than..." Scar's voice trailed off as he shook his head.

"A karaoke night? I didn't know you were much of a singer, Scar." Ammit wisecracked from where he stood, smirking in an annoying fashion.

"It felt more serious...yeah we had some music on but the mood was serious. We were preparing to declare war on the Monarchist government. There was no humorousness...just anticipation, maybe excitement but we all had our minds on the same objective."

"The visions you see cannot be anything but the truth... you must have misinterpreted events then. The ruckus could easily have been mistaken for power... even the society itself marching before you."

"I guess..." Scar sighed. But inwardly he wondered. Meanwhile, the air began to fade to white once again. This time Scar fought against it.

"Wait – just give me a moment..." He protested, still deep in thought. But it was useless. The air still shifted, heaved and reformed to new shapes. Scar was in the back-alleys of Prideland City and beside him was Zira. And the three thugs.

"This is the last chance to back out. If any of you morons want out now, this is your one and only chance." Scar told them, pacing in front of them like a general before his army. There would be no mistakes – if they wanted to back out, he would rather they did so now, not when it mattered most. Ed gave a crazed laughter, and Shenzi looked around her at the white plumber's van parked beneath a building renovation. The entire area around the build site had been closed off, and now they were waiting for the perfect time to strike.

"We wouldn't miss it for the world." Shenzi replied on behalf of her two companions, still leaning against a brick wall as inconspicuously as possible.

"Alright, just wait...I think they're finishing up..." Scar whispered, trying not too stare at his target too much.

Soon their time came. The workers jumped in the van, and slammed the doors shut behind them. The engine hummed to life, and the headlights flickered on, illuminating each individual droplet of mist in the cold Prideland City early morning. Scar started to walk forwards slowly as the van rolled forward, away from the construction site. The electric chain-link gate slowly slid open, and in turn the van slowly rolled out of the perimeter, crunching sand and gravel beneath its tires before it hit the tarmac. It turned down the road longways, in Scar's direction.

Scar quickened his pace, and broke into a jog so that he stopped right in the middle of the road where the van was about to drive. He read the logo on the side of the van as it turned. _PHILLIPS & SONS PLUMBING AND PIPING CO. _The van skidded to a halt before Scar, and tooted its horn loudly. Scar stood firm, using one hand to shield his eyes from the blinding headlights, he plunged the other into his jacket and drew his black Desert Eagle Handgun. He pointed it aggressively at the driver, who's eyes opened wide in shock. Before he had a chance to say anything, his door was suddenly opened and he was yanked out of the driver's seats. Banzai and Ed pulled the two workers from either side of the car, and knocked them out cold instantly with the help of their pistols. Shenzi took out the man in back of the van.

Once the car-jacking was over, Scar put the pistol away and slowly walked over to the scene of the crime. The plan had worked flawlessly. He looked over the bodies of the three piping workers, before turning back to Zira and his thugs.

"Okay...let's get a move on. We all know what to do." With that, the three thugs started stripping the workers of their uniforms and hard-hats, and putting them on over the top of their own.

Zira tossed a large black duffel bag inside the back of the van, which Scar opened just to double-check. _Yes..._It was full to the zipper with Semtex-H plastic explosives. As the trio quickly finished applying their stolen workers' disguises, Scar drew two items from his jacket. The first was a bunch of blue papers scrolled up; the blueprints for the Prideland City Center. The second was smaller, a mobile-phone sized object with a short, thick plastic antenna, and a grey lever on the side. It was a detonator.

He tossed the blueprints to Shenzi and the detonator to Banzai. They were all disguised now, they had their van, they had the explosives, they had a plan, and they had their holy grail. It all came down to this.

Scar flicked open his Motorola mobile phone, and dialed in a familiar phone number. Everyone else watched him intently.

"_Hello, this is the Royal Palace Administration, how can I help you?" _A voice answered.

"This is Scar Taylor speaking, can you patch me through to the Royal family's quarters? Thanks." Scar replied in a casual manner.

"_Okay Mr. Taylor, we're putting you through. Hold for a second." _Scar tapped his foot impatiently as he waited.

"_Hello?" _A female voice finally came though.

"Ah...Sarabi...Could you put Simba on for me? I'd like to have a word with him." Scar requested casually.

"_Sorry he's asleep at the moment, still a little miserable from yesterday. I'll get him to call you back, okay?"_

"Very well...bye." Scar hung up and turned to face Zira and the trio.

"No confirmation yet. Anyway, like I said before...It all comes down to this. I have laid out all the instructions for you as clear as glass, and given you every single advantage you could hope for. DO NOT blow it until you get my signal, is that clear? I'll text it across, so keep an ear out for your mobile, Shenzi. Make sure that you plant the bombs on the Gas pipeline, understood?" Scar laid it out to them again.

"Understood." They all said in unison. Scar nodded his approval and began double-checking each and every single bit of equipment he gave the thugs, from the explosives to their phones. It wasn't much later Scar's phone started ringing again.

"Hello?" Scar asked intently, and everyone paused at once.

"_Hey Uncle Scar it's me...You called me earlier?"_ The young voice of Simba said. A devilish grin swept across Scar's face.

"Oh, yes. I have a surprise for you. I hope it might cheer you up from yesterday." He heard Simba gasp at the response.

"_You know about that?" _Simba asked, embarrassed.

"Yes, it was all over the news and tabloids." Scar lied. It was more than likely covered up, but he knew Simba didn't know any better. "Well anyway, meet me at the Freeway train station in an hour. I'll be waiting for you there." Scar instructed his naive nephew.

"_Okay..." _

"Good lad, see you in an hour." Scar said, and with that, he hung up. He exhaled in relief before turning to his companions.

"He took the bait, now is everything ready?"

"Uh, yep. All the equipment is in the van, we're all dressed up and waiting on you." Banzai replied. Scar pulled him close by his stolen high-visibility vest.

" Don't fuck up this time. Our whole plan depends on you getting this right, and don't blow it until you get my signal. Are we clear?" Scar sneered.

"Clear." Shenzi, Banzai and Ed all replied together, even though Scar was only talking to Banzai due to the fact he was in charge of the bomb.

"Good, now I've got business to take care of." Scar picked up his keys and motioned for Zira to get going in her own direction.

With that, the trio got into the stolen van and gunned it away, while Scar marched towards his Dodge Challenger. Zira was left casually walking down the sidewalk as if nothing had ever happened. Soon the street was deserted.

Less than an hour, Scar returned to the freeway, with a 12 year old child walking behind him, hands in pockets, yet still energetic. Scar led the child down onto the deserted freeway. Simba had naively followed Scar without any explanation after Zira had completed her role in the plan. Without using the exact words; she had proposed a 'girls day out' where she, Sarabi, Sarafina and Carmen would go out for a brunch, in the freedom of the public holiday; which was why the freeway and public transport was closed to begin with. Police stations and emergency response teams were unusually relaxed due to the holiday, and not expecting (or better yet prepared for) a hostile situation.

And so it was that when Simba was lead to his death on the road, the entire country was blissfully unaware of the impending danger. Zira's plan – with a few of his own embellishments, was flawless. Once they reached the bridge suspended over the road, Scar turned to his nephew and smiled warmly.

"Are you sure its safe here?" Simba asked nervously, staring at the unnaturally deserted freeway, usually buzzing with vehicles.

"Yes I'm sure. It's closed today remember?" Simba nodded quietly. Scar motioned for him to sit at the base of a large concrete pillar holding up the bridge.

"Now you wait here. Your father has a marvelous surprise for you!" Scar told him.

"Ooh! What is it?" Scar smiled having already prepared an answer for such a question the inquisitive cub was bound to ask.

"Now, if I told you it wouldn't be a surprise now would it?" he said grinning.

"If you tell me, I'll still _act_ surprised." Inwardly Scar groaned. Why did all kids think that they always had such brilliant ideas?

"Well, aren't you a naughty boy..." He laughed. But again, inwardly winced.

"Come on Uncle Scar!" Simba begged. Scar, delighting in tormenting him with even this imaginary 'secret' smiled again.

"No, no, no, no, no, this is just for you and your daddy..." He told him. When Simba looked lost, Scar attempted to elaborate. "You know... a sort of father son... thing..." He finished lamely. Simba looked confused, and before he could ask another question Scar cut in.

"Sit here while I get your father. And that reminds me..." Scar put a hand into his jacket and closed his fingers around a cold metal grip.

He pulled out a silver Beretta 9mm pistol, and Simba's eyes opened wide in horror. Scar flicked the weapon around in his hands so that he held it by the barrel, and the grip faced Simba.

"Take this." Scar said bluntly. Simba shook his head quickly.

"No way...If my dad sees me with that, he'll kill me. Especially after last night." Simba protested.

"Well you may need it for the surprise. You may just be learning how to shoot, hey?" Scar let out a small grin.

"You mean like how you teach Tojo-" Scar quickly hushed him.

"You might want to work on your aiming skills, hmm?" Scar suggested.

"Oh, okay." Simba said sheepishly. Scar sighed loudly, before turning back towards the metal stairs and starting off. Now that Simba was in place, he was practically sitting on a geyser ready to blow at any moment.

"Hey Uncle Scar, will I like the surprise?" Simba called out after him.

"Simba...It's to _die _for." Scar said quietly, not fully turning around to face him.

As he walked up the stairs and off the freeway, he pulled out his phone and started composing a new text message, its recipient: Shenzi.

"_Now." _ It read.

_A few blocks down from the Prideland City Center, on the sidewalk_

Shenzi felt her mobile phone buzz in her pocket. Reaching in, she pulled out the primitive looking Nokia. She read the message and looked up at Banzai who was staring at her intently, awaiting her call. Shenzi gave him a thumb up, to which he nodded. Banzai pulled a hand out of his pocket to reveal the detonator. Looking at the City Center one last time, he squeezed the grey lever.

The loud ambience of crowds moving around the City was silenced in an instant. Any conversation, and activity or any noise happening prior was swiftly interrupted, and in the moment their silence begun, a deafening bang filled the quietness. Balls of fire blasted through the windows of the city center, accompanied by brown smoke filled with dust and mortar. But the survivors of the explosion didn't have time to scream, the chain reaction had begun.

The explosion had hit the gas pipes, and now section after section of road burst into a cloud of dust and debris. People tried to flee the chain of explosions ripping the ground up from underneath them, but were too late as they were viciously thrown into the air, in one piece or not, by the next blast. Soon the blasts had finished, and scene was almost apocalyptic. The 50 meter section of road had collapsed in on itself, and the screams had begun. People lay with completely seared bodies, or bodies with notable sections blown off. Chaos had ensued. Most fled from the area screaming, creating a massive riot of panicked human figures, while others still stood where they had been previously; frozen in fear.

It didn't take much for them to be moved, however. Sirens wailing, ambulance, fire, and police vehicles started frantically arriving on the scene, have to skid to halts to avoid collision with hundreds of panicked people. People were loaded into the back of them, burned and covered in fireproof blankets, on stretchers, and many in body bags.

It was seemingly the Pridelands' 9/11.

Police had to push through crowds to get some sort of vantage point. Once they did, the megaphones were pulled out, and they all yelled out similar things.

"_Ladies and Gentlemen this is an emergency situation!"_

"_Please evacuate the area ASAP!"_

"_People are advised to evacuate the city and all surrounding area! The freeway has been opened to accommodate!"_

"_Repeat: __**The Freeway has been opened to accommodate evacuation!**__" _

Scar watched on from the Freeway train station as the chaos ensued in the distance. He had heard the faint cracks, and seen the smoke rising above the skyscrapers. And eventually, he saw the streets and on-ramps start to clog with cars. Panic was fueling the mass of cars speeding away from the Metro area; there would be no stopping them. Scar smiled at sight. _So the idiots didn't screw up. Ain't that a change. _He quickly re-gathered his focus though, the essential phase of the plan was coming up.

He quickly breathed in and out several times fast, to make himself sound desperate and exhausted. He then drew his phone yet again, and scrolled through his contacts. _Mufasa _was selected.

"_Hello, Scar?"_

"Mufasa, the city was bombed! It-" Scar rasped, feigning desperation.

"_Jesus, is that what it was, you could see the confusion from up here..." _Mufasa cut him off.

"Shut up and listen! It caused a traffic rush on the freeway...Simba's down there!" Scar broke the dire news.

"_Simba...I'm on my way." _The phone then hung up. And of course he did what they had predicted. Scar's mind was drawn a few hours back.

_"But how do you know this will work, Scar? What makes you think Mufasa will go for this? He is not stupid, too many things won't add up. Like how was Simba on the freeway in the first place?"_

"_You misunderstand Zira. Mufasa won't consider it at the time. He will drop everything to save his son, turn and run from whatever he was doing to where he is needed more than ever, without asking questions. Trust me."_

"_But how do you know?"_

"_Because it's what I did as soon as you and Kira were in danger..."_

Now Mufasa did exactly what he had done. He leapt out of his Aston Martin and ran up to him, and Scar, panting and sweating, jogged up to meet him.

"Simba! Where is he?" Mufasa asked as they stormed towards the station

"On the freeway, below the bridge!" Scar told him, inwardly grinning as Mufasa ran towards his eventual death.

_**(To Die For Theme)**_

Scar and Mufasa heard a cry in the distance, and saw Simba, hugging desperately to a concrete pillar not too far above the road. Amazingly he was still alive. But maybe not for much longer.

"Dad!" Simba dried out desperately. The poor child was terrified but Scar steeled himself. The child had to die. The child had to die. _The child had to die._

And so did his brother. Mufasa descended into the stampeding vehicles at the sound of his son's cry.

"I am coming son!" He cried out in anguish, skillfully dancing through traffic.

Scar stalked along the pedestrian walkway on the bridge, trying to keep both his brother and nephew in view, without getting into the deadly roaring mass of cars. Mufasa fought his way to his son. The apparition of Scar skulked behind him. The real Scar watched. And for a moment, Mufasa's face was replaced by that of a child.

_He has decided he doesn't want to be known as Prince Misery-Guts after all._ _The sound of laughter. Of children at play. The first vision he had. Scar was reminded of the serious kid desperately wanting to be a good leader. That same man fought with all his strength to save the life of his son._

_Goodbye. Brother_

The voice of Mufasa so long ago before he had faced Ahadi in that brawl. Mufasa had bid him farewell, knowing Scar could not have won that fight. He had been grieving before the first blow had been made. Grieving.

_**(To Die For Theme)**_

Mufasa was struck by the wing mirror of a speeding Volvo. If any of the drivers realized that this was the king, all would be over, but the people were half mad with fear and gunned onwards. Mufasa crashed to the ground, and Scar's heart leapt for a moment. But the man was on his feet again and moving in and out of the lanes. By some miracle, Mufasa had reached his son, even as he clattered down onto the road. Mufasa was there for him. He leapt on top of his son and pushed him flat against the ground as a Truck ran over the top of them, its bottom just skimming Mufasa's shirt.

"Would you have done the same for Kira?" Kivuli asked, but Scar said nothing.

_Another memory flashed. Of familial love and good times. The food. The gathering. The day five young people had a night to remember. The feeling of joy as they accomplished something great._

Mufasa was struck again by a wayward car and he dropped Simba. He crashed to the ground, and for a moment it seemed as if Simba would be crushed beneath the burning tires.

Then Mufasa leapt out of the carnage and the child was once again safe. Carrying his son over his shoulder he reached the maintenance stairway. Mufasa dropped Simba onto the raised metal platform, and climbed up after him.

The tearing of flesh was heard as another wing mirror struck Mufasa in the side. With a roar of pain he was pulled from the stairway back into the buzzing mass of metal and tires.

"Dad!" Simba cried out. The desperation for the love of a father.

"_Mom!"_ _His memory cried out. Himself facing the broken body of his mother upon the dusty road. _Scar shook the memory away. One at a time.

_And then, unwanted and unasked for, another memory awoke. Of playing on the football field. Uru, Ahadi, Taka and Mufasa together. Playing, having fun. The laughter of kids and the love between husband and wife_

The Scar in the memory glared down at the couple.

Mufasa, beaten and broken, disappeared beneath the traffic rush. Simba looked desperately into it, his eyes dancing back and forth trying to find their way through the cars.

_**(To Die For)**_

And then Mufasa jumped out of the mass with a great grunt. Simba gave a whoop of triumph and fled up the stairs away from the freeway. Scar looked down at the King as he climbed up the side of a pillar via a maintenance ladder, his fingers curling around the rungs dragging his battered body up the side of the bridge, out of the freeway, to safety and freedom.

Scar stood at the top of the ladder, and glared down at the King.

"_Stop this madness!" Another memory, the voice of Mufasa intervening in the duel – as Ahadi prepared to put a bullet into both Zira and Scar before their closest. Mufasa interfering. Mufasa... saving his life. His brother. The uncle of his child. The King who had tried to hard to maintain a country with fairness and justice. Naive. _The Real Scar pulled out of the memory drawing in sharp breath. A memory within a memory. Kivuli shouted over the wails of the tires of the cars.

"Look at what you wrought Scar! Look at Your brother"" Scar did so. But he could not look at his brother without seeing the face of the child who had tried to be King. The face of a young man whom had trusted him enough to lad an illicit nighttime mini-party. The man whom had been thrilled to discover he was an uncle. Scar almost could not bear it. What was he doing? A car struck the bottom of the ladder, making it creak and fall of its riveting to the pillar. Mufasa leapt off the falling ladder and just grabbed onto the side of the walkway.

"Scar!" He called, dangling helplessly. "Brother!" The apparition cried out desperately. "Help me!" Help me even though I did not help you against Ahadi. Help me even though I let Kira die. The apparition of Scar glared at him. Then lashed out, his left arm grabbing Mufasa's so he could pull his face close. Mufasa cried out in pain. Scar leaned forwards. For Kira._ For betraying me and stealing what was mine._

_But the real Scar looked on. Uru Taylor. Victor Calibanov. Ahadi Taylor. Bane Nguyen. Kira Taylor. Hissis Dion. Mufasa Taylor. All of them on the casualty list for the power of a country he came to despise. His Mother died for it. His Father would try to kill him over it. And he in turn would kill for it. Again and Again. So much death. And so much more to come._

_Was the prize worth the cost? Could it ever be?_

_Kira, Uru, Ahadi. All of them killed over the leadership. All of them dead for it. And now he destroyed the last of his family._

"_No…" He whispered. "Don't…"_

_Another Memory awoke for before. A Voice, screaming his triumph. His own._

_THIS IS MY HOUR!_

"_**Long live the King!"**_Scar hissed.

And with his free hand, he drew the .50 Desert Eagle, and leveled it over his brother's head.

_Cla-Chik..._

Mufasa's eyes widened. A terrible mixture of emotions. Horror. Shock. Betrayal. Pain. Pain at losing his brother. Pain at not realizing it.

Scar pulled his index finger back, dragging the trigger with it.

**BANG**

A cry echoed around the freeway. A tiny, high, broken voice that echoed loss beyond imagining. Yet Scar could imagine it. He had felt it keenly and for a moment, that voice was joined by another. He barely recognized it as his own.

"NOOOOOO!"

The traffic cleared. In a few seconds all of the destruction had been wiped away. Dust and small pieces of metal were the only sign of any calamity. Scar moved over to the body of his brother. His limbs were crushed, and his face was bloodied, most of the blood coming from a hidden hole in his forehead. With a grunt of disgust, Scar turned the body over with a hand. Mufasa stared up at him. He was dead. At last.

"The country is mine dear brother. It was always mine." He told the corpse. He was unsurprised when he received no response.

Scar smiled with glee.

"Oh, and give my regards to our father would you? Both of you underestimated me. And both of you died for it because of it. I am glad you know the truth now…"

A skittering of gravel caught his attention, and Scar shrank into the shadows to avoid whoever was coming. Simba came trudging out of the dust, which had been thrown into the air. Crying, screaming… desperately for his father.

Scar eased out of the shadows and talked quietly to him. Scar didn't need to listen. He knew what he said.

A few moments later Simba ran from the valley. Scar barked a command, and the East Side thugs pursued.

A short while later they returned.

"It is done." Shenzi said simply. She stared at the body of Mufasa upon the ground.

"We actually did it…" Banzai said grimly, clutching a wound on his arm. They showed no euphoria of celebration, but looked at the murder grimly. They knew what they had done. This was no war casualty. Not justified revenge killing for the loss of one of their comrades or friends.

"The country… is yours Scar." He said.

Ammit laughed manically.

"Oh masterfully done Scar! Superb hand-work."

Kivuli sighed at the carnage.

"More blood spilt in the name of your ambition." He said bitterly. Scar shook himself, a lump forming in his throat.

"He left me… no choice. I had to… He betrayed me… I would have lost _everything!"_ He cried out. Kivuli surveyed the scene grimly.

"I think… you just did." And Scar knew he was not talking about his power. He had lost so much more.

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**Well, now that you're back...How was that? What do you all reckon? Let's go for a few more than 2 reviews for this chapter, eh people? It was one of the better ones. By the way, the TLK-MHV timeline is still up on my profile! From the settlement of the Pridelands to the HYENA crisis, it's all there. And the favorite quote poll is also up on my profile still. Hell, all the good shit for MHV fans is up on my profile. Check it out.**

**This has been JJZ-109, and as always...Have a nice day.**


	6. The Parliament Storm

**I'm back...And with something strong. Again not a scene featured in the original, but one that I planned since the story's creation. It is mainly political, but has all my usual crap in there as well. Anyway, where've you all gone? I'm still here. We have the atrocious regime coming up...as well as some familiar characters. Not really much to say this chapter.**

**Kaladion: Cheers m8. It's a hard scene to forget, as its was probably the iconic one from the original MHV early last year. Come a long way since then.**

**Haradion: Every single situation in this universe is more dangerous...In the original you deal with the second greatest predator...Here you deal with the first.**

**Cheers: JJZ-109**

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**CHAPTER 33. THE PARLIAMENT STORM**

_The Day after Mufasa's Assassination/City Bombing_

Scar stood firm and motionless; his face completely blank. Images of the last few days flooded his mind, all the planning, preparations, the execution itself...it had all come together. But for some reason it hadn't brought that soothing wave of satisfaction it would. His stomach had not stopped churning from the moment he drew the Desert Eagle. He hoped that once he had completed the final, political stages of his plan, then that feeling would come. But that was supposed to be the easy part, why was he so tense now?

He let Zira straighten the collar and tie on his uniform, while he nervously fiddled with his palm cards. Commotion and chatter was bubbling to a boiling point at the Press Conference on the other side of the door, and he was about to march straight into it. Zira put a hand on his face gently, making Scar make eye contact with her. He sighed loudly, and looked down at the ground.

Suddenly the varnished wooden door swung open, and the loud ambience flooded in. Banzai stood at the doorway, dressed in full Prideland National Socialist Party attire.

"Scar...they're ready for you now." He reported casually, and Scar nodded, taking a step forward.

"Not far to go..." Zira whispered to him as he started to head out.

"Yes, wish me luck." Scar replied, not turning back to face her. He gulped as he progressed out the door.

As soon as he entered the grand chamber, he could feel the flashing of cameras beat down on him, and the tension in the crowd start to rise. Chatter broke out louder as he walked over the wooden podium. He was the man the media had wanted to see. Currently the most powerful man the Pridelands.

He tapped all the microphones on the podium and cleared his throat, making the chatter die down. In turn the flashing of cameras began to ease. Scar bit his lip as he waited for the silence. The eyes of the world were on him now. Finally, he spoke.

"Today was one of the most, if not _the_ most tragic day in Pridelander history. It is with a heavy heart I report that along with the City Bombing, my brother, King Mufasa...is dead. But even more tragically...to lose Simba, who had barely become to live..." The crowd burst into chatter, and the flashes began again as he finished, and feigned sorrow.

He raised a hand, and slowly the media began to quieten itself again. The reaction the announcement was universal. Across the country, and the world. It was broadcast to TV and radio stations across the globe, and not one soul wasn't shocked to the core.

"_Would you say this is the most eventful week in the nation's history?" _A journalist called out.

"Possibly, yes." Scar answered coolly. Another reporter thrust her hand up.

"_With the King and his heir dead...Does this leave you as the Rightful head of state?" _Scar was waiting for that one.

"Yes, it does. However...the entire government will be under review soon. We at the Prideland National Socialist Party have reason to believe there was much corruption in Mufasa's liberal system, and it will all be looked into, I assure you." Scar answered, and instinctively flinched as the cameras and chatter started again.

"_So you are the head of the country at the moment?"_

"Yes, for the foreseeable future."

"_Will you organize a special service to commemorate Mufasa and Simba?" _One reported called, and Scar felt anger begin to bubble inside him. He had to restrain himself from scowling.

"Why must they have a special service? They are two people who died today. Down town near a hundred were killed and many more permanently scarred by a terrorist attack. Is it fair that none of them get their own individual service?" Scar professionally lashed out, pointing out the social inequality.

"_Well no, but..." _

"But what? What sets them apart from all the other unfortunate victims? Other than they were born into a pompous, attention-rich lifestyle?" Scar kept on.

"_But they are part of the Royal -" _

"Royal...What is your name?" Scar pointed a piercing finger at the suited journalist.

"Shane McInnes." The man responded.

"Well after such a tragedy as today, if those are the best questions you can come up with...You're quite brilliant Shane." Scar snarled, sarcasm dripping from his voice.

The aggressive display stunned the media, and they all seemed to quieten and reconsider what they were about to ask, out of fear of humiliation. Finally, another reporter put their hand up and Scar motioned for her to speak.

"_There has been speculation regarding the two incidents...Is it possible there is a link between them?" _

"No. We are privately investigating the deaths of Mufasa and Simba, and at this stage all we can say that it was a tragic accident. PI1 is focused entirely on solving the bomb case as we speak." Scar lied through his teeth. Aside from the obvious, his whole 'investigation' was actually just a mask for a cover-up.

"_With the King dead, and the Liberal Government under investigation, how will the political question be answered?" _Scar took a deep breath, and tried to fight back a smile.

"Well as I mentioned...The Liberal government has no longer been deemed fit to lead this country. This leaves the Prideland National Socialist Party as the most powerful, and the logical choice as the moment. As the legal heir of the King, and leader of the PNSP..." Scar reared up for the biggest announcement yet.

"I am hereby _merging _the positions of King and Prime Minister, as a new government is put into place and the old one investigated." The crowd burst into chatter, and the lights flickered at such a pace he had to squint.

"Out of the ashes of this tragedy...We shall rise. The Monarchy will be eradicated, and a Republic formed. This is the dawning of a new era...in which all citizens of the Pridelands come together as equals, for a great and glorious future!" Scar was joined up on the stage by Shenzi, Banzai, Ed and several other members of his Privateer force. All wore the standard brown uniform, along with the Red armband. They all had rifles slung.

Gasps broke out from amongst the crowd, as Scar scanned over them all.

"Thank you." He finished, and started to make his way off stage, followed by his Private troops.

The press fired up again, yelling, calling out, flashing cameras to try and get his attention back. But to Scar, it was over. He decided the conference was over, and so it was over. That was how it was going to be from that point forward. And he was going to make sure every single Pridelander coverage of the interview was going to be viewed how it was meant to. It was too early to start properly censoring his media.

He was now officially the head of the country. There was only one more thing left to do.

_One week later, outside Parliament house, Prideland City_

"Is everything ready?" Scar asked Zira.

In unison they both looked over the several blocks of soldiers, standing in tight rows, with AK rifles held tightly against their chest. They all stood with emotions bubbling inside them. This was where they could finally take it out on those that had made them and their families suffer in poverty.

This was when they wiped the last remains of Monarchist Pridelands away. Was there going to be an investigation surrounding corruption? No. Scar was going to cement his position in one swift strike. Then there would be nobody left to contest him. This was the final phase of the plan: To cleanse Capitalism as he had always intended to. All the politicians had gathered there that night, to discuss the already grown issue of Socialism in the country, and how to combat it. They would not ever.

This meeting was to be their last.

"Alright! Now everyone knows what to do, correct?" Scar yelled out to the thousands of Privateers there.

"SIR YES SIR!"

"Tonight...we can sleep...knowing that nobody will stand above us from this point forward. This is the last step to assuring prosperity for all. Those men you will see in there? They represent each and every injustice this country has done to its people. And you will bring justice accordingly. And to prove that nobody stands above you...I am marching you in myself. I do not stand on a chair and pull strings, I stand at my people's level, and work with them to achieve. Now who's ready to clean this country up?" Scar yelled out.

"SIR YES SIR!" They yelled out again. Scar smiled wickedly, and gave a small salute.

They all thrust their right arm up into the air, with a closed fist.

"HAIL SCAR!" They cried out. Scar returned the gesture. _Hail me..._he thought.

Scar then took his place in front of the first block of Privateer, about 10 meters in front. He caressed his pistol gently as he began his march forward, up the grand marble stairs of Parliament House. Each menacing step he took seemed to be echoed a thousand times, and thousands of feet fell at the same time as his. As he approached the security gate, he painted a scowl across his face, one that was already present on the faces of his troops.

_**(Temple March Theme)**_

Thousands of brown shirts followed him up the stairs, as well as thousands of rifles, and thousands of Red armbands. Each block of 100 troops carried the new Banner of the country - A Red star on a black background. A sickle and hammer was in the center of each star. It would take a fool to not recognize where this was going. Scar slipped on his new dark brown Premier's hat, which had the same emblem on the front.

Security guards cautiously moved to halt them, but as soon as they were within 30 feet of Scar, two Privateers rushed out and assaulted each one. They did not shoot them, but beat them with the butts of their rifles and feet, even after they had been knocked unconscious. This was the smaller punishment he was handing out tonight.

_**(Temple March Theme)**_

More guards came, but ran in fear. They started to come with firearms, but none had time to even aim. _BANG, CRACK! _A single AK shot was dealt to each one. Despite the minor combat, Scar did not change course or even flinch. He marched down the grand expanse of the building, with only one thing in mind: The Senate.

Privateers started filing away, and storming individual rooms. Screams broke out, as well as brutal commanding shouts, and even the occasional executing gunshot rang out. Soon, Scar reached the Senate chamber. The varnished wooden double-door had the sign 'Meeting in progress' hung up. One more thing for him to defy. He shoved the double doors open with both palms, and stood in the doorway, flanked by Banzai and Ed.

The meeting swiftly silenced itself as Scar was seen. Not a single murmur was heard as they all looked at him. Scar let a grin form on his face.

"Scar...we were not expecting you. I don't remember giving you an invitation to this meeting." The ex-Prime Minister broke the uncomfortable silence.

"I don't remember giving you freedom of assembly..." Scar replied menacingly.

"The government doesn't need -" The ex PM was cut off.

"I _am _the Government now." Scar snarled.

"Scar! This is madness! What the hell did you think you were doing? We are not criminals...why on Earth are we -" The PM broke his ignorant act, and started to lash out against Scar.

"YOU are all under arrest for treason." Scar announced.

"Treason...how did we-"

"Don't play stupid. Why else are you all here, huh?" Scar yelled out to the whole chamber. "I don't think you are discussing a new bill. You were meeting on how to reverse the Government change, which is technically overthrow. So there you go: High Treason against the state." Scar explained. His troops started filing through the seats and lining the stairways, getting ready to force them.

"Even in that case, no crime had been committed by the time of your press - ugh…get off me!" The PM was grabbed by two of Scar's Private troops, and dragged to the front of the room.

"I suggest you don't resist. It'll make this a lot quicker." Scar informed him.

"What do you mean a 'lot quicker'?" The PM grunted as he was thrown against the wall, with his hands behind his head. Two troops stood about 5 meters before him.

"You were conspiring against the government, hoping to overthrow it, and cause a lot of unrest in the Pridelands. Potentially civil war, which can claim a lot of lives." Scar said coolly and cruelly. The two soldiers snapped up their AKMs, and aimed them at the ex-PM.

"Scar...this is utter insanity-" _BANG!_

Two shots fired in unison slammed into his front, and he slumped down along the wall, leaving a trail of blood along it. Gasps broke out among the Senate, as their old leader was executed before them. Scar casually turned around to face them again.

"But yes...One man can surely not attempt that on his own, can he?" Scar looked at the people thoughtfully,

Instantly 30 or so Privateers got down on one knee in a neat row before the senate, and brought up their rifles aggressively. A symphony of clicking broke out as each AK was cocked. Gasps of mortal fear followed.

"Of course not...Fire away."

_RATATATATATATATANG!_

* * *

**And the Monarchy comes crashing down. Me and Scar are political geniuses aren't we? Here's a little quiz: Who can tell me who's rise to power Scar's one is inspired by? Winner gets an OC and humanized written in later. And anyone that I've discussed this with...does not qualify for this. Anyway, let's see some reviews flowing again!**

**This has been JJZ-109, and as always...Have a nice day.**


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